It felt like a slap in the face. He was in love with some other girl. And the idiot didn’t even want him. How could she not want him? He ran into an open field to save a kid everybody shunned.
Cerise bit her lip. She wouldn’t be a consolation prize; she had some damn pride left.
But before she cut him loose, she had to be 100 percent clear where they stood. If it cost her a tiny bit of pride, that was fine. Nobody but the two of them would ever know.
“How is it different?”
He rolled his head back, sable hair falling down on his shoulders. “With Rose I knew what to say. I could take a step back and talk to her. I remembered all the crap from the magazines. It was easy.”
“And with me, it’s hard?” Why? Because she was a swamp girl? And how did the magazines fit into it?
William looked away from her. “I don’t like it when you’re away. If I don’t see you, I can’t settle down. If I see you talking with another man, I want to claw his throat out. And none of the things you’re supposed to say fit.”
Oh, this had to be good. “What sort of things?”
He sighed. “The lines. Like ‘You’re my everything,’ or ‘Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’ ”
She lost it and laughed. She sounded hysterical and broken, but she couldn’t stop.
He sighed again. “Why are you laughing?”
It was that or crying.
“Cerise?”
“Are you going to ask me if my daddy was a thief, because he stole the stars and put them in my eyes?”
He pushed away from her. “Forget it.”
The laughter finally died. “It’s called the rending, isn’t it?” she asked. “The thing you did this morning? Your kind does it when you become overwhelmed—”
He lunged at her. A blink and he pinned her to the floor, his big body bracing hers, his eyes on fire.
Excitement zapped through her. She felt her muscles tighten in all the right places.
Now or never.
Cerise bit her lower lip. “Well, this is quite a predicament, Lord Bill.”
William snarled. She stared straight into his eyes, at the savage thing he hid inside. “Wolf,” she whispered. “I think you are a wolf.”
“When did you know?” His voice was a ragged growl, as if she was talking to a beast.
“For a while now. Yesterday when you found me here, I was reading a book about changelings, because I knew.”
Cerise caught her breath. Her heart was beating too fast, as if she were running for her life. Anxiety washed over her in a cold wave. The world, which had been so stable a month ago, had fallen apart around her and she couldn’t even hold on to the pieces. What if she was wrong? What if it was just wishful thinking? If she misread the need she saw in his eyes, and he turned her down and walked away from her now . . . She would handle it—she knew she would, because she had no choice—but thinking about it, imagining it happen, clenched her throat shut. She struggled to make the words come out.
“You have to be very careful now, Lord Bill. You’re in terrible danger.”
He stared at her, obviously not understanding. She searched his face but found no answer. Gods, it felt like torture.
Cerise forced her lips into a smile. “Nice changeling boys like you shouldn’t play with swamp girls.”
“What?”
She raised her head to his ear. She felt as if she were standing on the edge of a cliff. One step and she would plunge or soar. “You’ll get bewitched.”
His eyes widened, the molten amber in them churning with violent intensity.
She kissed him. Her lips pressed against his, asking, demanding. Kiss me back, William. Kiss me back!
He opened his mouth, and she slid the tip of her tongue inside, licking his. He tasted just like she imagined he would: delicious and wild, and she kissed him harder.
He jerked her to him. His mouth locked on hers, taking over the kiss. He kissed her as if he was making love to her already, as if he had only one chance to seduce her and this was it. She gripped his rigid body, sliding her hands around his muscular neck, running her fingers through his hair, feeling the smooth, silky strands slide under her fingertips.
He pulled her up. The muscles bulged on his back as he lifted her higher off the floor and kissed her again, thrusting his tongue into the heat of her mouth. She was out of breath and she didn’t care.
His rough, hot hands stroked her, touching everywhere, under her clothes, caressing her neck, her back, her butt, until she wanted to arch her spine like an eager cat. His mouth found a sensitive spot on her neck, and a light electric shock burst from her neck all the way down to her toes. She gasped, and he kissed her again in the same spot, nipping the skin.
“Oh, Gods.”
His eyes shone with want and predatory satisfaction. “The name’s William. It’s a common mistake.”
She slid her hands over his chest, feeling the hard muscle under the skin. “Jackass.”
He laughed that raspy wolfish laugh that made her crazy. His hand slid between her legs, stroking her thigh in just the right way, and she unbuttoned her shirt with feverish speed, eager for the feel of his body on hers. He jerked his own shirt off, grabbed her, and kissed her again with a deep guttural growl, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, the taste of him turning her light-headed.
“Don’t leave me,” she whispered.
“Never,” he told her.
The last cold shreds of fear melted away inside her and only happiness and need remained.
His hand cupped her butt, and he moved her closer, the hard bulge of his erection digging right between her legs through the fabric of their jeans. Cerise grabbed onto his big shoulders and slid lower, grinding against him.
His hand slid up her back and suddenly her bra was off. William looked at her with his crazy amber eyes. “You drive me mad.”
Yes! He had no idea how long she had waited for him to say it. “Don’t blame me. You’re already mad,” she breathed and kissed his perfect jaw, tasting the light scrape of stubble. He smelled so good, clean and strong and male. “Mad, mad wolf.”